


Foam, Rubber

by orphan_account



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Pi's March Madness Fic Tournament, basically some steamy perthshire fun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-18
Updated: 2016-04-18
Packaged: 2018-06-02 23:24:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6587398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A continuation of Foam, Rubber from memorizingthedigitsofpi's March Madness Fic Tournament, for lapiccolina on her birthday. </p><p>Prompt: Simmons shaving Fitz’s hot stubble only wearing his shirt, which of course, will thoroughly distract Fitz, which will thoroughly distract Simmons.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Foam, Rubber

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lapiccolina](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lapiccolina/gifts).



> Happy birthday, lapiccolina! I'm so glad to have gotten to know you, and I hope you enjoy this little mini-fic :)

The soft swish of the razor was followed by a splash of water and then the sound of it tapping against the side of the sink. 

_Swish. Splash. Tap._

_Swish. Splash. Tap._

Otherwise, the stillness of the morning was uninterrupted, except by the faint sound of birdsong outside of the cottage window. 

Jemma smiled as she got out of bed and crept soundlessly over to the bathroom doorway. Her smile widened as she watched Fitz, wearing nothing but his boxers and standing in the sunlight streaming through the window, slowly and methodically shave his face. 

Jemma reached down, slipping on Fitz’s discarded button-down from the night before. He’d discarded it after she’d half unbuttoned it, stumbling through the door on their first night in their new home.

Home. This little, picture-perfect Perthshire cottage is actually their _home._ And sure, maybe most people wouldn’t account for installing a secret lab as part of their home remodel, but they’re still SHIELD through and through.

Jemma slipped into the bathroom, startling Fitz slightly. He turned to look at her with raised brows.

“Need a hand?” Jemma offered.

“With this?” he asked doubtfully, gesturing at his face. “No offense, Jemma, but I think this is kind of a one-man job.”

“Oh hush,” she chided, hopping up onto the counter just beside the still-running sink. She hooked her legs around him, pressing the heels of her feet into his lower back to tug him closer. She plucked the razor out of his hands, noting how his eyes quickly began to wander from her face down to the plunging neckline of his unbuttoned shirt.

“Jemma…”

“Yes?” she asked innocently, smirking up at him. His hands moved to grip the sink on either side of her legs.

“You’ve gotta know what this is doing to me,” he said, looking her up and down. She laughed lightly, tilting his chin up.

“Nuh-uh. I have a job to do.”

She rinsed the razor and lifted it to his cheek. He flinched the closer she got and Jemma scoffed.

“Fitz, who do you think kept you clean-shaven while you were in a coma?” Jemma asked rhetorically. “Trust me, I’ve got this.”

He sucked in a sharp breath and then nodded, consenting for her to continue. With a little smile, she leaned as close as possible and slowly dragged the razor up the side of his half-shaven face. She turned to rinse it in the sink before going back again, the shirt wrapped around her body slipping open even further. One of his hands moved from the counter to her thigh, sliding up slowly.

“Fiiiiitz,” she said warningly, drawing the word out. “Don’t distract me.”

“I could say the same for you,” he replied, voice a near growl. Jemma shivered, tightening the grip of her legs around him.

“After,” she insisted, returning to the top at hand. She shifted over slightly, letting the shirt slip tantalizingly off of one shoulder. She heard his breath speed up, biting back a grin at his shallow panting. He let her get through two more swipes of the razor before one of his hands made it’s way to her shoulder, fingers dancing on her collarbone.

Goosebumps rose up on her skin and he smirked, the muscles in one cheek moving.

“Hey!” she exclaimed. “Stay still if you want your face to stay in one piece.”

“A small price to pay,” he murmured, not halting in his gentle touches. His deft fingers ran down the front of her shirt—or rather, his shirt—and toyed with one of the buttons. She nearly nicked him, the razor slipping roughly on his skin. He hissed in a small indication of pain and she groaned.

“Ugh, Fitz! I’m so sorry.”

Her lips found his cheek, kissing the razor burn she left there. When she pulled back, she didn’t make it very far; his lips chased hers, capturing them in a searing kiss that leaves shaving cream all over her face.

She pulled back, laughing as she wiped the shaving cream from her chin. “You’re making a mess.”

“Mm, am I?” he mumbled, leaning back in. “You’re the one who came in here and offered to help.”

He trailed down her neck, nipping at the skin just below her ear. She reacted exactly as he’d expected, arching into him with a little gasp. He grinned against her skin, leading with his hips to get as close to her as possible even as she tugged him closer.

“Do you do this with all your barbers?” she teased. “Because if so, we need to have a chat.”

“Jemma, come on,” he whined. “You started this and you know it.”

She laughed lightly and ran her hands down the front of his chest. “This may be the only room we didn’t christen last night.”

“Careless,” he whispered against her collar bone. “We don’t deserve to be homeowners.”

She shivered, hands flying up to his curls. His fingers closely followed his tongue, working quickly to unbutton the shirt wrapped around her. One hand slipped around her middle, the other yanking the button-down off of her and throwing it into the hallway. He shifted, directing his attention to the other side of her neck. She shrieked with delight, throwing her head back. Fitz’s hand moved just quickly enough to cushion the blow of her skull against the mirror.

“What?” he chuckled. “You’re a regular giggles this morning.”

“Only one side of your face is smooth,” she laughed. “The rest is all naked.”

He waggled his eyebrows. “And yet I’m not the one who’s naked.”

Her fingers hooked around his boxer shorts, tugging them down in one quick motion. “Not anymore.”

And then he disappeared, kneeling in front of her and kissing his way up her legs.

“Fitz…”

The strange feeling of his half-shaved face between her thighs only distracted her for a brief moment, before the work of his tongue against her center distracted her in an entirely new way.

It didn’t take long for her to come apart with a loud moan, fingers grasping at the damp ceramic of the sink to keep herself from falling right off of the counter. He pops up with a satisfied grin.

“Will you let me finish?” he teased. “I’d quite like my face to be matching.”

She shakes her head and pulls him in for another kiss. “We have something else to finish first.”


End file.
